


The Dark Earth Spins Beneath Us

by La_Catrina



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Kylo defects to the Resistance, Mutual Pining, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Sharing a Bed, Space Virgins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-26 09:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17139179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/La_Catrina/pseuds/La_Catrina
Summary: Ben's defection from the First Order is supposed to make everything different. And it has, for the most part--better. Except Rey can't seem to catch a moment alone with him, and Ben doesn't seem to be making any efforts to be alone with her. The ghost of Crait still hangs over them, but Rey knows this impasse can't last forever.





	The Dark Earth Spins Beneath Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radioactivesaltghoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radioactivesaltghoul/gifts).



_“I have slept with you all night long while the dark earth spins with the living and the dead, and on waking suddenly in the midst of the shadow my arm encircled your waist. Neither night nor sleep could separate us.”_ ― Night on the Island by **Pablo Neruda**

 

* * *

 

Rey breathes in deeply, letting the chill air fill her lungs as the dawn's morning rays paint a kaleidoscope of colors behind her closed eyelids. Early morning meditations help to center her for the day ahead, and they’re even better when opportunity allows her to do it outdoors. The frozen planet of Rhen Var limits her sessions to shorter than she’d like, but Rey has learned to get peace when she can.

Try as she might though, she can’t help the ache that springs through her chest at the lack of a certain presence by her side. Ben’s Force signature echoes strongly from another part of the base, not obscured in the slightest by the meters of stone which separate her from the Rebellion’s underground chambers. The gray cloud of his presence pulses in the Force, a constantly shifting cloud of dark and light.

This is the closest Rey’s gotten to him since that morning he’d defected to the Resistance; his _Tie Silencer_ screaming through atmo as twin flames trailed behind the dual engine thrusters. It’s a miracle of the Force he didn’t get blown to pieces before making landfall. Her stomach had dropped when she’d felt him planet-side, disconcertingly close when only days before he’d been a thousand parsecs away, orbiting a different star system aboard the _Ravager._

Between one blink of the eye and the next, Rey had felt it again—their bond—coiled tight beneath the bones of her ribs as the man known to the galaxy as Kylo Ren bore down on the Resistance. The hum of her lightsaber reverberated in her veins as Rey activated it, running to the place where the _Silencer_ had landed. Once pulled tight to the point of shattering, now the bond coiled and writhed, so close again were they to the other. Every available weapon pointed straight at the spacecraft, and Rey held herself ready, lightsaber held aloft between her clenched hands.

Who would it be that emerged from the smoke?

A dark figure had materialized from the cockpit, hands held up as he stepped down.

 _Don’t shoot,_ he’d said, and the words had echoed inside her head.

 _I’ve come to help_ , he urged, feeling her weariness. _Look inside._

And so Rey did, barreling inside his head, the lack of resistance to her intrusion overwhelming after a year of mutual mental shields. Fear, resolution, pain, they all swirled in a toxic cocktail inside his mind, but Rey didn’t find a shred of deceit. For all his faults, Ben had never lied to her.

Rey lifted her arm, “Stand down!” she commanded.

“I need—,” he began, as she approached him, “—to speak to the General.”

The base had descended into chaos once the news that the Supreme Leader had defected spread. Rey will never, for as long as she lives, forget the look on Leia’s face at the sight of her son. Like the sun breaking through storm grey clouds, wonder and hope swept across her face. And at that moment, Rey thought things would be different. 

 

* * *

 

And they had been, in a way. The intel Ben brought with him was invaluable; he’d brought weapon manufacturing plant blueprints, battle strategies, and fleet numbers. Those early days were a series of endless intelligence meetings that felt more like interrogations; Ben seated before a panel of senior Resistance members who grilled him for anything and everything he could give. As the Last Jedi and one of the only other Force users, Rey was not only privy to these meetings but expected to be present as a security measure against the former Supreme Leader.

Not that anyone had explained it to her in those terms outright terms, but she’d never been invited to these types of talks before. Rey tried not to let it rankle her, being used as a guard. She could see the logic; she was by far the most qualified person to stand against him should this all be a ruse.

But it bothered her more that he wouldn’t look at her.

“And why should we trust a single thing that comes out of your mouth?” questioned Admiral Statura, steely gaze pinned on Ben.

He raked his eyes across the room, gaze dark and guarded, landing a heartbeat longer on Rey’s face before continuing, “Because you cannot afford not to.”

When she’d tried to reach out to him Rey had bumped against his mental shields, back up again. An emotion bubbled up in the pit of her stomach at that knowledge, but she refused to examine it more closely at that moment.

And so the days that followed adhered to a similar schedule, and when he wasn’t divulging intel Ben retreated along with Leia to the General’s private quarters. In the time since he’d defected, Rey hadn’t been able to get a moment alone with him.

Not it like it seemed he was trying very hard to get in touch with her.

Rey stands up, shaken from her thoughts when a gust of wind cuts through the thick fabric of her winter coat. She shivers, trudging her way through the snow on her way back to base. No time for worrying now, she has work to do and not enough time in the day to do it. 

 

* * *

 

The din of voices and the clatter of silverware greets her as Rey steps into the chaotic energy of the mess hall. A burst of laughter echoes to the right of her as she walks by a group of pilots, x-wing helmets on the seats next to them. Her stomach grumbles, unhappy about having to wait so long for lunch.

Strange, to have gone hungry for so long on Jakku and been able to bear it, and now that she’s on a regular schedule, going too long without a meal will result in her body letting her know it’s time to eat. Insistently.

 _Please let there be jogan fruit,_ she prays, peering over heads to get a glimpse at the food counter. She spots the telltale purple skin and white stripes and quickens her pace, intent on her target.

But five feet from the table a mechanic grabs it, and it’s the last one too, gone in an instant. Rey groans, she hasn’t had one of those in so long, and now it’ll be longer still.

Things weren’t as desperate for the Resistance as they’d been after Crait, and supplies _were_ easier to come by, but war time still meant an emphasis on non-perishable goods like ration bars over things like fresh fruits and vegetables. Rey frowns as she grabs one of said ration bars, turning to search among the throng of people for a familiar face.

She can’t find either Finn or Rose, who must be out running drills with the new recruits or on technician duty, respectively. But—there, in a solitary corner sits Ben, the only one at his table. It’s like there’s an invisible force field around him, for no seat in a ten foot radius is occupied, despite how busy the rest of the mess hall is.

It’s a shock to find him out and about, since the majority of the base still keeps a wary distance from him. _Well_ , Rey thinks as she approaches his broad form, _I’ve never been afraid to deal with him, and I’m not about to start now_. Even if he does seem to be doing his best to avoid her.

Her tray clatters as she sets it down, sliding into the seat facing him.

“Rey,” he acknowledges, a glimpse of surprise flitting across his face before it disappears beneath a mask of neutrality.

“Ben,” she replies, and tries to ignore the way his fist clenches beneath the tabletop. “I haven’t really talked to you since you arrived,” she continues, ripping the foil off her ration bar and taking a generous bite. Across from her Ben sighs.

“I know.”

The murmur of voices around them peters out, Resistance members taking surreptitious glances their way, curious about the Last Jedi sitting with the former Supreme Leader.

Rey leans forward, “How have you been?” she asks, voice lowering.

Ben shrugs, but the downward twist of his lips gives him away. “About as well as could be expected.”

Rey remains quiet, hoping that perhaps he’ll volunteer some other information. But if the audience they have is any indication, she doubts she’ll get much out of him this way.

“I’m sure Leia is happy though, that you’re back,” she says after a couple more moments of silence.

“We can only be in the same room alone together for so long before it becomes overwhelming for the both of us. I don’t blame her, she has to look at the face of her husband’s murderer every day,” he admits.

Rey blinks, taken aback at his words, and he tenses immediately after.

“That was uncalled for. It’s not your fault for me being…like this,” he says, frowning as he runs a hand through his dark hair.

 _What are you really thinking?_ she wonders, not for the first time nudging against his mind to feel his shields still in place.

A communicator beeps, breaking the mounting tension. Ben pulls it out of his pocket, staring at the tiny screen. “I have to go,” he murmurs. He stands, picking up his tray and getting ready to leave. He hesitates a moment, then grabs his uneaten jogan fruit and places it in front of Rey.

“I saw someone else took the last one,” he says by way of explanation.

Rey stares at the offering, both pleased and thrown by his gesture.

“Thank you,” she replies.

He looks at her a moment longer, eyes searching her face for something, and once he seems satisfied he gives her one last look before walking away.

She takes a bite of the fruit, the ripe skin parting easily between her teeth as its tart juice fills her mouth. It might be the sweetest one she’s ever tasted.

 

* * *

 

The next couple of days pass in much the same manner as the ones before. Rey wakes up, reads some of the Jedi texts, and then heads to the main hangar to be assigned her days’ tasks; sometimes mechanic duty, sometimes pilot practice. Afterwards, she trains with her saber until sweat coats her brow and her muscles strain from exhaustion, before heading to her private quarters for a sonic shower and then to sleep. Her days are broken up when she’s sent on scouting or reconnaissance missions, but that hasn’t been for a couple of weeks now.

She wonders when her next mission will be as she steps out of the base and into the snowy landscape. Fat snowflakes fall gently from the sky, its color the deep lavender blue of a fresh bruise.

The rattle and noise of the base disappear as the doors close behind her, and Rey makes her way out to her meditation spot. It’s nothing more than an outcropping of rocks large enough to sit on, but it’s alright by her.

She dusts off the fresh coating of snow and folds her legs into the correct position. The cold burns her lungs as she inhales, filling her lungs to capacity. Rey closes her eyes and reaches out with the Force, connecting with that vast energy that intertwines all living things. Time passes as she drifts, deep in meditation, until the crunch of snow beneath booted feet catches her attention.

A set of footsteps approach her, and she doesn’t have to look to know who it is, for Ben’s Force signature roils behind her mind’s eye. He stops in front of her a moment, then moves to her left, taking up residence on the rock next to her. She waits for him to make the first move.

“I was never any good at mediation,” he begins, “It requires the ability to still your thoughts, to let them go in order to better commune with the force. I grew frustrated. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t do something that was easy for everyone else.”

Rey opens her eyes and turns towards him, Ben’s own eyes already trained on her.

“I haven’t been fair to you, these past few weeks,” he says.

“So you have been avoiding me,” Rey confirms, feeling her throat tighten at his admission. But anger surges close after, nipping at her heels.

Ben shoots her a pained look. “Yes,” he admits. “I thought, after the _Supremacy_ , after Crait, that you wanted nothing to do with me. It was…selfish, for me to assume.”

“You--that hurt,” Rey says, and doesn’t miss the way he flinches at her words. “I didn’t know what was going on with you, and then--after that day you closed the bond.”

“It seems like all I do is hurt people. I’m sorry, Rey,” Ben says, regret rising in his dark eyes. “I was— _I am_ , afraid. It’s not an excuse, but I thought, as long as you were fine I could deal with it. And I knew what kind of reception awaited me if I ever made it here, the way people would react—”

“Show me,” Rey asks, curiosity peaked.

Ben’s bites the inside of his cheek, deliberating a moment before nodding.

“Fine,” he says, and brings down his shields, reaching out to touch her mind with his own. Rey grabs onto it, blinking as images flash before her; faceless Resistance members whispering behind their hands, the animosity in a room crawling over her skin like ice, fear and even hate rising to meet him wherever he goes.

“I didn’t want that to happen to you. If they found out about—the bond,” he replies, once she’s looked long enough.

Their breaths form small white puffs of smoke, and Ben’s nose is starting to redden from the cold.

“You should have talked to me,” Rey says, processing the memories she’s just seen. She springs from her seat to pace back and forth, restless energy buzzing beneath her skin. “Because you took that choice from me, you see that don’t you?” she glares back at him. “By not even talking to me you made the decision for me.”

“Yes. I see that now. It was wrong. And I’m sorry,” Ben says, white flecks of snow caught in his dark eyelashes.

“Don’t do it again. And don’t—don’t shut me out,” Rey says, the anger from before not completely extinguished, but at least banked.

Ben nods, “I can’t guarantee that I won’t ever mess up again, but I will try.”

It’s harder to hide emotions from one another with the bond open, and Rey feels the sincerity beneath his words. They’re not done, not by a long shot, but it is a start. And it feels good, Rey will admit, to not be the only one in her head again. The small place in the back of her mind that she’s internally marked as his, which had been silent and empty before, hums with his presence now. This feels better. Right.

“Good. So—now that we’re talking again, are you up for joining me at training sessions? I’ve missed kicking your butt,” she asks, a teasing lilt to her voice.

Ben looks shocked, and then, pleased, “If you’d like,” he says.

 

* * *

 

Rey stretches, loosening her arm muscles as she prepares for lightsaber practice. Behind her, the doors of the training room open and a familiar presence fills her senses.

Her heartbeat quickens.

“Glad you could make it,” she says, turning to face Ben, who carries his saber in hand.

“I did agree to come.” He’s forsaken his usual long outerwear for thinner pants and a short-sleeve shirt that molds to the muscles of his torso. “What’s your usual training routine?”

She shrugs, trying not to stare, “What I used to do on Jakku. Just go over strikes and blocks for a while; imagining an enemy’s attacks and how to counter them.” She pauses for a moment, then continues, “I never got far enough with Luke for lightsaber training—,” and at the silence from Ben she pushes on, “—and the Jedi books haven't been very helpful on that topic.”

Ben regards her silently, evaluating what it is she’s said.

“Would you be open to combat training? Many of the Jedi’s fighting techniques are obsolete now, but there are some useful applications.”

“Are you offering to train me?” Rey asks, a slight uptick in her tone; teasing.

“Only insofar as you’d want my advice.”

Ben is careful to avoid her eyes and Rey intuitively knows he’s remembering Starkiller Base, the same as her. She marvels at the stark difference between then and now. Her instincts have always done a good job at guiding her, and her gut tells her this’ll be good; the opportunity to learn something more about the old Jedi traditions.

“I’d like that,” Rey agrees, a spark of challenge lighting up her hazel eyes.

A surge of satisfaction ripples through their connection as Ben activates his lightsaber, the red blade crackling to life.

“Then let's begin.”

“As can you can see, there were various styles that the Jedi and Sith developed over the course of their history. There were seven distinct Jedi styles, though the majority of that knowledge was lost after the Jedi purge executed by the Emperor,” he explains as he slides one foot back while swinging his arm in a downward slash.

Rey mirrors him, sweat beginning to bead on her hairline. The past hour they’ve been going over forms, each one a distinct set of movements meant to exercise a different set of muscles.

“I’ve recovered bits and pieces of several techniques, integrating what’s been useful for me and discarding the rest,” he continues, sweeping the saber overhead.

Rey follows, the hum of her sea-blue lightsaber ringing as it arcs through the air.

“So what does that include?” she asks, her eyes focused on Ben.

“I can start with showing you the basics of Soresu; the Way of the Mynock. It’s ideal for intercepting blaster fire, which is the most common form of attack we’ll be up against,” he answers, turning off his saber to reach into his holster and withdraw a blaster as well as a small circular training droid, a  _Marksman-H_ by the look of it. 

He tosses them to her.

Rey fiddles with the settings until they’re set to stun. Ben moves into an opening stance; his saber held back in a one-handed grip, the tip angled forwards with his blade arm held parallel, dominant foot positioned back.

“The most useful move here will be a deflecting slash--redirecting the projectile either away from your body or towards an enemy. Begin.”

Rey fires, observing the way he keeps his saber arm tucked close to his body, saber swinging back and forth as he parries blaster bolts. She can see it requires great concentration to maintain sharp reflexes and transition to other positions quickly. The next two bolts Ben deflects zip past, hitting the droid and the blaster held in her hand.

Ben deactivates his lightsaber, “I’ve seen you fight, and your deflection techniques are good. What Soresu does is emphasize minimizing energy expenditure while increasing your defense.”

“Not much chance for an offensive strike then.”

He nods his head, “You sacrifice offense for a near impenetrable defense. I did not advance far with this style—for obvious reasons. But it has some use. Your turn.”

Rey hands the blaster back to him before attempting to recreate his earlier stance, feet sliding into position as she lifts her arm. Across the room Ben appraises her, gaze sliding up her legs and following the curved bend of her arms, intense and searching. Rey fights against the warmth crawling down her neck. There’s no reason for her to be feeling this way when he’s merely analyzing her technique.

Ben walks closer to her, a hand lifted towards her. “May I?” he asks.

Rey nods, and watches from the corner of her eyes as Ben moves behind her, large hands landing on her saber arm and the small of her back. She feels the warmth of his breath on her neck as he continues.

“Keep your back straight and your arms at an angle,” he instructs, making minor adjustments to the positions of her limbs until he seems satisfied.

Rey, meanwhile, is trying very hard not to let on how much his proximity is affecting her leak into the bond. A moment later he steps away, and Rey is left with both disappointment and relief warring within her at his departure.

“Ready?” he asks, lifting the blaster and reactivating the droid.

“Always,” Rey replies before the sounds of blaster shots fill the air.

It’s difficult at first, trying to minimize her movements while maintaining an adequate level of speed. She gets a warning shot to the shoulder when she doesn’t position her saber quickly enough. In response she closes her eyes and taps into the Force, relying on it to alert her to which direction a bolt is coming from. She allows the Force to guide her, positioning her where necessary to deflect the shot. It goes on and on, her muscles straining as she taps even deeper into it, the only sounds in the room the hum of her saber and the whine of blaster shots while the blood pounds in her ears.

All at once they stop, and Rey finally opens her eyes. Ben is watching her, an impressed look on his face.

“Not bad right?”

He doesn’t smile, but she swears the corners of his mouth turn up. 

 

* * *

 

Rey’s rounding the corner hallway leading to her quarters, jumpsuit black with grease after a day’s worth of mechanic duty. She sighs, rubbing at a crick in her neck that’s developed as a result of bending over x-wing engines all day. A shower and then passing out sounds heavenly at this point--scratch that, shower, dinner, and _then_ afterward a good night’s rest.

She’s wondering if the mess hall has any specials today that she doesn't immediately notice the person walking in her direction. The unmistakable figure of Ben approaches, arms full of empty crates.

“What are you up to?” Rey asks, curious. She’s never seen him in this part of the base, as it’s a smaller section dedicated to private quarters.

“My mother thought it was time for me to quit hiding.”

“She said that?” Rey arches a brow, trying to imagine Leia being so blunt.

Ben shrugs, “Not in so many words. Really she believes the probability of someone trying to murder me in my sleep has diminished enough for me to have my own quarters.”

He says it in a neutral enough voice, but Rey notices how his grip tightens on the crates. A surge of protectiveness rises up before she can stop it.

“I’d like to see anyone try,” she snarls.

The bond vibrates with her anger. That anyone would try to harm him sets something off in her, and a part of her mind, quiet, whispers _I won’t let them._

Ben gazes back at her, while something like wonder flashes from his side of their connection.

“I was assigned the last room at the end of this hall, at least it’s quiet and farther away from the majority of the other units.”

“That’s the room right next to mine,” she says. “It’s been empty since the officer in it got reassigned somewhere else.”

“My mother failed to mention that,” Ben says, brow furrowing as he works his mouth.

_Oh, did he not...want to be next to her?_

Something must falter in her expression because he continues, “I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I can ask for a different unit.” But his broad shoulders tense and his eyes shutter, as if preparing for a rejection.

“No. No, I’m fine. As long as--you’re fine?” she hazards.

Something else flashes through the bond, too quick before it’s once again buried, but Ben relaxes, the tension leaving his body.

“I’m alright.”

“Good,” she nods, decisive. She’ll have time to wonder over the fact that they’ll be living less than five feet apart from one another later. All of a sudden the day’s fatigue makes itself felt again and Rey sighs.

“I have to go. But, hey--” she smiles, “--have you eaten yet?”

Ben shakes his head.

“Do you want to meet up for dinner after I’m done showering? I have some translations I want to go over with you.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” he agrees, brushing softly against their mental link before going. 

 

* * *

 

Rey wakes up freezing.

She gasps, her breath coming out in white plumes and the tips of her ears numb. She tries to wiggle her fingers and toes to find them stiff and aching.

 _Kriff_.

Rey reaches out with the Force, expanding her senses to find that the whir of the energy cell powering the heating system is absent.

_Well, that explains the cold._

Jakku’s nights were frigid once the sun dipped behind the sand dunes, but this is something else. It feels like ice has sunk down into the marrow of her bones. She wonders how long the repairs will take, if the Resistance has any extra blankets to spare—

A familiar consciousness brushes against hers.

_Rey?_

Ben’s mind feels tired but alert—he must have been awake when the malfunction happened.

 _It’s freezing,_ she thinks back, teeth chattering in the darkness. _How long has it been like this?_

_An hour or so. I’m not certain how long it’ll take to repair, knowing the dearth of supplies the Resistance has at their disposal._

She elects to ignore his sarcasm, _How have you been standing it this long?_

He sends the impression of lingering warmth across the bond. _The Force._

_How?_

_The technical term for it is Tapas, a manipulation of the kinetic energy available in the environment. It’s easier to show you—_ and he beckons her, a tentative tug from his mind to hers, pulling her in.

Rey goes willingly, sinking into his mind, registering the way it envelops hers. She sees then, how he does it, the threads of the Force he plucks to keep himself warm. It seems simple enough—in theory—but after a few false starts Rey is no warmer than she was before. Maybe if she weren’t already shivering out of her skin it would be easier to concentrate.

 _No luck. I get the idea but I can’t seem to make it work,_ she replies, frustration seeping into her tone. _I’ll just have to wear both my jackets and my long pants and hope my toes don’t fall off._

_A tragedy, I’m sure._

_You don’t get a say in this, you’re nice and warm._

He doesn’t respond, but she can feel him mulling something over. Rey sends a nonverbal question his way.

 _I may have an alternative solution to your current predicament,_ he finally thinks.

 _You have some extra blankets I can borrow?_ Rey asks, wincing as she gingerly slides out from underneath her blankets to make the painful trek from her bed to the closet.

_Sharing body heat is a more efficient strategy for staying warm._

Rey freezes, half wondering if she’s misunderstood him somehow.

_Are you telling me we should share a bed?_

She gets the distinct impression Ben regrets his words the second they left his mouth. They’ve been enemies, and almost allies, and now they’re something else, something like friends, though Rey hesitates at the label. Not because she dislikes his companionship, but because none of her other friends make her heart race just by looking at her. She doesn’t dream of running her hands through their hair, or of tracing the thin line of their scar past the collar of their shirt.

Is this what friends do, sharing beds? Rey thinks they might, but the thought of sharing a bed _with Ben_ lights up something inside her.

_Rey—_

_Ok,_ she acquiesces.

Before she can second guess her decision the door of her quarters is already sliding shut behind her, and she’s walking a couple of meters through the hallway to Ben’s door. She doesn’t have to knock, one moment the door is closed and the next Ben is there, clad in loose nightclothes. Something she hesitates to call disbelief falls across his face.

“I thought you didn’t want my toes to fall off?” Rey says when he makes no move to let her in.

He shifts his large body aside, allowing her entrance into the softly lit room that’s as equally chilly as hers. There’s a holopad resting on his bedside table, and she spies an empty caf cup next to it, but his quarters are noticeably bare otherwise.

She’s never been in here before, Rey realizes, and spins around to take in the man who has invited her in. His adam’s apple moves as he swallows, and the slight scrape as the door closes echoes louder than a blaster bolt.

“Right--so where?” she looks back to the bed, noticing for the first time that it’s the exact same size as hers. Which shouldn’t be a surprise, it’s a standard issue size, adequate for the average Resistance member. To Rey, who used to sleep curled up in a flimsy hammock hung from the walls of her AT-AT, and who slept on the stone slabs of Ach-To, her bed is more than large and comfortable enough.

Ben, on the other hand, _is not_ an average sized person. The mattress might be more than enough for her, and just barely adequate for him, but it is not equipped to fit both of them together. _Kriff_ echoes through the bond as he comes to the same realization.

“Right--Rey, you can--take the bed. I’ll just sit and read a while longer, and I can keep you warm,” he says as he flexes his fingers. And he does, Rey feels the cold leaving her extremities, replaced with a delicious warmth that crawls slowly up her spine.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’m not about to kick you out of your own bed.”

He shakes his head, “I’m fine, take the bed.”

“Yes, it’s fine because we’re sharing the bed.”

To prove her point Rey reaches for his hand and tugs him gently forward. His palm is warm and solid beneath her own, and after a moment's hesitation, Ben follows suit, quiet as he slips in after her.

Calling it a tight fit is being generous. They end up hopelessly tangled up together, Rey with one of Ben’s long legs sandwiched between her thighs while her head rests on his broad shoulder. But not before elbowing him in the ribs while she gets comfortable.

“Sorry, sorry,” Rey whispers in response to his grunt of pain.

Finally, finally, they end up in some semblance of order.

This is, without a doubt, the closest she’s ever been to another person. But despite the small bed, she finds it oddly comforting to feel the steady rise and fall of Ben’s chest. She watches him reach for the holopad that rests on the bedside table, the bedroom light growing dimmer as he adjusts it.

“Not sleeping yet?”

He shakes his head, “In a moment. But you should, you have an early shift tomorrow, don’t you?”

Rey nods in agreement, the innate warmth of Ben’s body and his manipulation of the Force leaving her warm and tired.

“Sleep, Rey,” he says, and without quite meaning to, she does, slipping into the warm embrace of unconsciousness. 

 

* * *

 

When Rey next wakes up, she senses that only a few hours have passed. A quick peek at the chrono hanging on the wall shows it’s only been three hours since she was last awake. She still has a couple of hours before she has to get up and ready for her shift.

Still half asleep, she marvels at the solid wall of heat that runs the full length of her back and is keeping her warm. It takes her a few seconds to realize it’s not a _what_ but a _who_ that she’s with. Ben’s huge body curls around her own, his thick arm wrapped around her waist and the tip of his nose buried in the crook between her neck and her shoulder.

She should feel trapped by his weight and body, but instead she feels oddly—protected, as if his body were blocking her from harm. But now she realizes what woke her up; she’s gone from warm to hot. The energy cell must have been repaired recently, and as a result the unit’s temperature should be regulated again. It should be great, except Ben runs as hot as a furnace and they’ve managed to cocoon themselves in a pile of blankets.

Rey attempts to adjust her position as gently as possible, hoping to free an arm from underneath Ben’s grip and remove a couple of layers of blankets. But Ben’s arm, heavy as a brand, prevents her from doing so. Huffing slightly, Rey wriggles her body, trying to create at least a little space between them.

She stills at the feeling of a solid object poking her in the backside. That can’t be what she thinks it is, right? A second attempt at movement causes her to press more firmly against it, and she feels the shudder that runs through Ben’s body, the quiet moan that raises the baby hairs on the back of her neck.

It is, without a doubt, what she thinks it is, and Rey’s face burns at the realization even as a something tightens in her stomach. She has to wake him up.

“Ben,” she whispers, tugging on the arm wrapped around her midsection. Ben’s response is to huff out a breath and pull her closer against his body.

“Ben!” she squeaks when the movement pushes his hardness more firmly against her.

Her emotions spike in the Force, and he jerks awake behind her, mind and body fuzzy with sleep.

“Rey? Kriff—,” he wrenches away from her, horror seeping into the bond, sharp and burning.

“I’m sorry— I’m so—“

“Wait!” Rey turns to reach for him as he scrambles out of bed. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His eyes stare back at her, glinting with fear in the early morning glow. Rey has the sudden feeling that if she lets him run out of this room he’ll never be the same with her again.

“Ben, come back here,” she asks, slipping her hand into his and pulling him back.

“Rey?” He questions, disbelief surging across the bond. “What?”

“Is that--what you felt, was it for me? Or was it just your body? It’s ok, I’m not angry. We can forget it happened.” Rey can give him an out, if it’s what he wants. She can do that much for him if he doesn’t feel the same way about her. If she’s wrong, they can still be friends.

“What are you saying?” he demands.

“That it’s fine if you don’t want me—like that, it’s-“

Ben loosens his grip from hers, lifting trembling hands to cradle her face between them.

“It’s always been you. It will only ever be you,” he confesses, and it rings clear and true in the Force.

She knows he means Takodana and Starkiller and Ach-To, the _Supremacy_ and now Rhen Var.

“But I thought-“ he continues, “You didn’t-I offered you everything, and still-“

“I never asked for any of that,” Rey shakes her head. “You offered the galaxy but-all I ever wanted was someone who understood. Ben, I only wanted you.”

And now Ben’s finally here with her, real and alive and whole. The pain and heartbreak of having to leave that day on the _Supremacy_ still aches, but it’s fading now.

“Rey,” he murmurs, and brushes the pads of his thumbs across her cheeks, wiping away tears.

Rey blinks, aware now of the way Ben’s face has gone cloudy around the edges, of the dampness at the corners of her eyes.

“I’m here now. I’m sorry for making you wait.”

Bens lips are warm, as soft as she’s always dreamed. When he kisses her, she feels a piece of her heart slot into place.

 

* * *

 

“I’ve never done anything like this,” Rey confesses into the hollow of Ben’s throat, lips brushing against the thready pulse beneath his skin. She settles herself atop him, hands resting on his broad chest.

“Me neither,” Ben says, as he places his hand on the soft swell of her hips—slightly rounded now after months of adequate care and nutrition—brushing small circles into the sliver of skin underneath the hem of her shirt.

They are alike in this as they are in so many things, Rey thinks, a steady warmth beginning to build between her thighs at his simple touch.

She kisses him again. Because she wants to, and because she can. It’s tentative at first, just a soft pressure between their mouths. When she traces the seam of Ben’s lips he opens up for her and lets out a deep groan. It’s wet and messy, the slide of their tongues against one another.

“I’m going to touch you now,” Ben gasps, out of breath once they finally break apart.

Rey nods as she slides her hands into the dark strands of his hair. It’s glossier than shimmersilk and twice as soft, and Rey’s so focused on this new revelation she starts at the feeling of Ben’s hand slipping beneath the waistband of her leggings. At his hesitance, she sends a reassurance to keep going through the bond.

Rey sighs as he slides two fingers through her wet heat, the feel of them so different from her own hands. Ben’s fingers are long and thick, his touch unsure, exploring the supple skin beneath his fingertips. This part of Rey’s body has only ever known her own touch, knows only pleasure wrung out of loneliness on those long nights on Jakku, when sunrise seemed light years away.

And now, it knows Ben’s.

“Show me what you like,” he asks, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

So she does.

Rey moans, the sound tugged out of her as Ben glimpses her memories and adjusts his touch accordingly. He coats his fingers with her wetness before circling the bundle of nerves that sits at the top of her slit. It sends a jolt of pleasure arcing through her.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, staring at her in awe.

“For you, Ben-ah-only you.”

His eyes darken, the caff-brown of his eyes swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

Ben’s hips jerk beneath her, and she’s reminded of the hardness she’d felt behind her when she’d woken up. It lays hot and heavy beneath her, trapped between their bodies.

“Off,” she insists, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his pants. “Ben-oh!”

One of Ben’s fingers slips into the tight heat of her, and even with just the one the stretch is delicious. He drags it out and back in, curling his finger to rub against something that makes her toes curl. He lets go of her hip to bring the other thumb to rub against her clit.

“Beautiful,” he says, and Rey sees it in his eyes, can sense it in the bond, can feel it with every stroke of his fingers. The wet sound of his fingers in her cunt echoes in the dark room and Rey blushes at the sound.

Is that her, she wonders, the soft needy sounds coming out of her mouth- little moans punched out of her with each thrust of Ben’s fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Will you come for me? Please?” Ben asks as he presses harder into her, slipping a second finger into her.

Rey arches her back, body going taut and curved like a bow as her orgasm washes through her. She moans, long and low as the pleasure crests over her, overwhelming her senses. When she comes back into her body Ben has slipped his hands free of her pants, cradling her against his chest as she pants for breath.

She presses a kiss to the edge of his jaw, hands sliding down the well-muscled plane of his chest.

“Your turn,” she grins, the glow of her orgasm fresh in her mind.

“Rey, you don’t have to,” Ben replies.

“I know,” she says, lifting herself onto her elbows to brush her lips against his. “I want to make you feel good too. So, off,” she tugs once again at the waistband of his sleep pants and the hem of his shirt. 

The blanket slides off them as she moves to perch on his legs, staring as he lifts his hips off the mattress to shove his pants and underthings off together.

Rey’s heartbeat stutters in her chest.

If she thought the feel of him pressed tight against her was significant, it’s nothing compared to seeing him for real. She’s never caught more than glimpses of the male anatomy when trekking by the communal baths on Jakku, but she thinks Ben’s is pretty.

It’s thick and long, flushed pink with blood as it curves up towards his stomach.

“Beautiful,” she echoes.

When she wraps her fist around it, the length of him jerks against her palm and Ben swears. She drags her eyes away from it to look at his face, at the way his eyes are screwed right and a flush crawls down his neck.

“Is this okay?”

He nods tightly, his bottom lip clenched between his teeth.

Rey hesitates, but a moment later she drags her hand up and down the shaft, warm beneath her grip.

“Harder,” he gasps as Rey tightens her grip and begins to stroke steadily. The muscles of his abdomen twitch with every slide of her palm against him. She bends forward to place a kiss on the ridge of his hip bone. The salt of his sweat lingers on her tongue.

She likes the taste of him, she thinks as she kisses a trail along his body; his bellybutton, his stomach, the meat of his pectoral. Rey notices his nipples, dark pink and drawn into tight peaks from the cold air. Rey swipes her tongue across one as Ben jolts beneath her, growing even harder beneath her hand.

She smiles, scraping her teeth gently against them, enjoying the moan that slips through his plump lips. She’ll have to explore this new discovery more thoroughly at a later time.

For now, she presses a kiss against his lips before returning her attention to his cock in her hand.

A clear liquid leaks from the tip, coating the length of him completely. Curious, Rey bends to swipe her tongue across the head of his shaft. It’s slightly salty, she muses, foreign but not unpleasant. She licks it again, bolder now, before wrapping her lips around it and giving an experimental suck.

“Kriff-Rey,” Ben’s large hands come to rest on her head, the pressure of them a comforting weight.

The skin beneath her lips is soft, softer than the rest of him, and she hums with pleasure at the knowledge that this is a truth only she knows. The scent of him is stronger here too, thick and undiluted. Rey relaxes her lips, bobbing down to take more of him into her mouth.

It’s a little difficult, he’s wide and she’s making a mess, spit leaking from the corners of her mouth to mix with his precum, but she doesn’t mind.

And from the sounds Ben is making above her, he doesn’t mind either. So she continues, moving her lips across the head as her hands come to stroke whatever doesn’t fit into her mouth.

“Rey,” he gasps, tangling his fingers in her brown locks, “I’m close..I-“ his hips buck up beneath her and Rey has to concentrate to not be thrown off.

 _I don’t mind,_ she moans, bobbing deeper to take as much of him as she can. She glances up to catch his eye and feels the second Ben comes as he locks eyes with her.

Ben groans, a sound so deep it sounds like he’s hurting.

He twitches beneath her lips before a viscous liquid floods her mouth. It’s more bitter than the clear liquid from before, but Rey holds Ben’s hips down with the Force and swallows it down. She doesn’t stop until she feels his pleasure start to edge into pain, and then she lets him go with an obscene pop.

Before she can catch her breathe Ben hauls her up, bringing his lips crashing against hers. His tongue sweeps into her mouth, and Rey wonders if he can taste himself on her.

 _Beautiful, strong, mine,_ echoes throughout the bond, their minds pressed so close together that she doesn’t know who the words are coming from. It doesn’t matter, because they’re true, all of them. A wild burst of joy fills her body. He feels the same for her as she does for him. She doesn’t have to wonder anymore, because she’s not alone.

“You’re not alone,” Ben whispers along her lips, every word an almost kiss in the space between their mouths.

“Neither are you,” she replies, echoing that night on Ach-To which placed them on the path that led them to here. She knows when morning comes the stark reality of the galaxy will still be there. But she knows too, that they’ll find a way to face it together. Ben presses a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“Sleep now, Rey. I’ll be here in the morning.” Ben’s side of the bond lays warm and content, the first time she’s ever felt it that way.

She rests her head in the crook of his shoulder and lets the quiet sounds of his breathing lull her back to sleep.


End file.
